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Ghost Hunt follows the adventures of Kazuya Shibuya, the president of the Shibuya Psychic Research Center (SPR) and Taniyama Mai, a first year high school student. The story begins during an exchange of ghost stories between Mai and her friends, who are interrupted twice: first by a mysterious “male student” and then by a fellow classmate, who warns them of how their ghost stories attract spirits.

While out walking, Mai sees the building that all the ghost stories surround and decides to go in. As she is about to touch a camera she found in the middle of the room, a man stops her and ends up injuring himself. Mai is then forced to work as a stand-in assistant for the man, an employee of the “male student,” who was hired to study the “paranormal” events occurring at the school. Mai nicknames this “student” “Naru” for his narcissistic attitude. Naru owns a paranormal investigation company SPR and Mai eventually earns a part-time job at SPR after assisting with the first case. The more involved Mai becomes with Naru, the more she learns about herself and her feelings towards him.

Along with Shibuya’s assistant, Lin, the SPR also finds itself assisted by a monk (Houshou Takigawa), a shrine maiden (Ayako Matsuzaki), a famous psychic (Hara Masako), a young, Australian Catholic Priest (John Brown), and, later on in the series, a third year high school student (Osamu Yasuhara) who works as an assistant beside Taniyama Mai.

I just finished watching this anime and ended up getting hooked at it. (Maybe I do love ghosts after all.. ^^,) The story was indeed great, the music’s cool too, but it’s a bit hanging in the end. I hope there’s another season for this one. There’s still a lot of mysteries for the SPR to solve..

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So there I was, catching falling stars on my bed one night and contemplating on my longest ever crush on Peter Pan. Maybe if he were for real (and if dogs could really fly) I could too, if only I didn’t know that while I believed so much on fairies, my fairies never did believe in me. I could not blame them; I never really took off the galaxies stuffed in my pockets, and I kept on catching more falling stars than I could hold in my hands. They must have thought that it was this weight that kept me anchored to the ground.

I found pixie dust sprinkled inside my shoes, when I finally got off the bed. Only I didn’t get that magical feeling in the movies, (the room did not echo “you can fly, you can fly!” ) It stung my feet instead, like when you sit on your leg for too long, stung my feet like having that funny bone on your elbow hit by the classroom chair. I liked wearing them anyway, for it reminded me of Peter Pan (and have I mentioned that I had the longest crush on him?) and I thought maybe if I wore these pixie shoes, by some good fairytale karma, he would appear. Even though it stung. (Even though I didn’t know yet that later on, it will bleed.)

Anyway I always kept my needles ready, just in case he drops by searching for his shadow.

So then my window flew open, as I watched in awe as the second star to the right shone brighter and brighter, I ran to the sill and stood on the roof thinking of what it’s like, face to face with your most elusive dream – must have been that same feeling in the wax museum when you’re face to face with hollywood stars, only better. (as I have never really found wax a legitimate substitute for human beings – wax hands are too slippery to hold.) Peter Pan was more than a Michael Jackson. Heck, Peter Pan was far greater to me then even Elvis.

I felt afloat. My feet began to leave the roof tiles – I was going to fly! I gave it one huge leap of faith, and I drifted into the endless sky. (And for the first time ever, like that cow in the nursery rhyme, I finally understood how it felt to jump over the moon)

I didn’t stay there for long though. Next thing I knew I was being pulled hard into the earth, plunging into the darkness underneath me. Down down down down down down

It was a seemingly endless fall. How high have I really been? Down, down, down.

Down, down, down, I couldn’t have crashed harder. The moment I hit the ground I felt my bones dig themselves into my other bones, and the stars that I have held so dearly in these pockets fell all over the place, dug themselves into my skin, like shards of that full length mirror that used to hang in our old apartment, (along with those five years of bad luck multiplied by a thousand stars and a few dozen galaxies and the remains of the first dog in space)

I had legitimate reasons to cry then, only I figured that crying is not as much fun as laughing, And so I did. And all of a sudden I realized that it takes more than pixie dust to fly.

And while I thought that my fairies never did believe in me, I felt myself begin to rise.

(I never found my Peter, but who am I to protest now that I’m in Neverland?)

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Quote of the Moment

“Some mistakes…just have greater consequences than others. But you don’t have to let the result of one mistake be the thing that defines you. You, have the choice not to let that happen."
~Jojo Moyes | Me Before You